


Dissonance

by strikecommanding



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Stockholm Syndrome, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 17:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16896717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikecommanding/pseuds/strikecommanding
Summary: Reaper still has morals.





	Dissonance

**Author's Note:**

> an old commission piece i'm posting now in the wake of the great tumblr purge

The smoke cleared to reveal you lying by Reaper’s feet, unconscious. The explosion sent your teammates running while you suffered the brunt of the blow, getting knocked back and hitting your head hard on some nearby debris on your way down. Your team must have thought you were dead or else they wouldn’t have just left you behind. Or maybe the newly recalled Overwatch simply operated on a basis of ‘every man for himself’ now.

Not that it mattered. All Reaper cared about was the fact that a fresh soul lay defenseless in front of him for the taking. He crouched down to your level to get a better look at your frailly rising and falling chest and to drag his claws down your jawline and neck. His fingertips settled just over your carotid to feel the soft, barely-there pulse and he thought about how easy it would be to just… slice. Another person killed and another soul reaped meant he could go on to see another day.

But something compelled him to go against his instinct to kill you. He thought about how good of a fighter you were, both in close combat and long range from what he’d seen. And he thought of how resourceful you were to think to use your environment even though your flanking attempt ultimately ended in catastrophe with you knocked out before him. That was but a simple misstep that could be trained out of you. The point was that there was value in you, value that wasn’t being properly utilized by the organization that currently had you. You had boundless potential within you and Reaper had the opportunity to shape it.

He sighed. All of these reasons and justifications just to run circles around the fact that he was still too moral to kill someone who couldn’t defend herself.

Without thinking about it any further, he scooped you up into his arms and tried to handle you as gently as possible. You were in such bad shape you didn’t even stir from being jostled this way and that. You were little more than dead weight when he carried you back onto the Talon dropship, and he hoped to improve your condition once they touched down back at headquarters.

—

Reaper didn’t trust the idea of leaving you in Moira’s care so he put a few medical grunts to the task of nursing you back to health. They put you up in the medbay where the majority of your recovery consisted of allowing you to sleep it off while they ran all sorts of tests. One of those tests came back with an x-ray of your brain, several regions blown up for closer examination, and a medic informed Reaper it was very likely you might experience retrograde amnesia when you woke up. In other words, you wouldn’t remember anything that led up to the exact moment you collapsed in front of his feet.

Objectively, that was good for him. He’d wanted to shape your potential but this sudden clean slate made you that much more malleable. But on a more ethical side he’d tried time and time again to quash to no avail, it made him feel even guiltier. You shouldn’t have even been here with him, much less in a position where you were completely vulnerable to his will. Reaper tried to harden his heart and convince himself that surely you would prefer servitude to him as thanks for saving your life over a lonely death on the battlefield. The more human side of him that still lingered was hesitant to be so callous, but his reason knew better. If he wanted to avoid any attachments to you, he had to be cruel the second you woke up.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t be gentle with you now. He cleared all the medics out of your room and stood over you, looking at all the tubes and devices hooked up to you just to keep you alive. You still looked vulnerable but otherwise much healthier than you had when he first found you. He took this moment of quiet to look you over and try to figure out why someone so young and lively would commit herself to a useless cause like Overwatch.

Reaper folded his claws in his lap, twisting his hands to avoid acknowledging the thought that was creeping into his mind. But it forced its way in. When he looked at you, he saw himself from his youth. Not Reaper, but the optimistic and starry-eyed Gabriel Reyes who enlisted in the army because he’d wanted to make a positive difference in the world. He’d succeeded, but then he got involved in Overwatch. For all the good it did, it caused nearly as many problems. There, he learned the true extent of the cruelty of injustice, and of letting evil proliferate simply because rules and regulations prevented him from cutting it off at its roots. From doing what he knew was right. To top it off, his involvement with Overwatch got him turned into a monster for all his troubles.

Admittedly his circumstances were unique, and it was unlikely that you would experience everything in the same way. But he’d had enough close friends in the organization to see how it tore into them and broke them down. The earnest desire to do good was a valuable trait on its own, but it would only get crushed under the oppressive rules and protocol of Overwatch. Though it was now a vigilante operation that no longer abided by any laws, he still didn’t trust it. He didn’t trust it to lead you to anything other than the suffering he’d both witnessed and experienced firsthand in his own history with the organization.

You started to stir and it made him tense. He hadn’t expected you to wake up so soon. The medics ensured him you’d be out for at least the next few days.

You were conscious but you didn’t appear to be very cognizant. In your current state, you didn’t seem capable of keeping your eyelids open for longer than a moment. Even then the flash of fear in your eyes was unmistakable as you managed a soft, “Who are you?”

Reaper raised a claw to put you at ease, and in hindsight he could see how this action probably had the opposite effect. He just wanted to communicate that he had no intention of hurting you, but the mere sight of him was probably a lot for you to take in in your current fugue. He pondered his words carefully for a moment before deciding to loosen up, since you likely wouldn’t even remember this exchange once you actually recovered. “I’m your new commanding officer.”

—

You’d made such a swift and easy recovery that Reaper felt bad to be breaking you down again almost immediately afterwards by working you to the bone in training. But it was all he could do to quell the dissonance he felt as a result of saving and taking under his wing an Overwatch agent who, for all intents and purposes, should have been just another person on his hit list. It was an attempt to regain consistency within himself after making the very inconsistent decision of saving your life. He reasoned with himself that you were alive because you had a purpose, and that purpose was solely to be of use to him. You couldn’t be useful if you weren’t the perfect soldier.

Reaper wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see the way you resented him, nor was he so deep in his own denial that he didn’t resent himself a bit too. He was harder on you than any other recruit to the point he could see tears in your eyes at the end of every training session. The sight struck him with guilt every time but he wasn’t guilty enough to stop. Or rather, he had to convince himself he wasn’t. It would be easier for the both of you if he got you to hate him and if he convinced himself he hated you too.

Things were difficult already between just you and him. More complications arose when Sombra decided to slip herself into the narrative, turning to you and serving as a ‘friend’ of sorts when Reaper knew she was only interested in the drama of it all. She let you vent to her all you wanted and in turn, she likely told you all sorts of things about him. Reaper would initially try to eavesdrop and figure out just what kind of information she had until he thought against it. To distance himself from you, he had to distance himself from the situation entirely.

Apparently his absence made things less amusing for Sombra, as she graciously reached out to him at every possible opportunity to give him updates on you. It was more trouble than it was worth to tell her off, so he begrudgingly let her talk. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to know about your progress and how you were adjusting to your new organization.

“I think you made the right call, Gabe. She’s a good fighter. She’s tough,” Sombra sang her praises for you after following Reaper into an empty hallway. He stopped dead in his tracks at the mention of you and he hated himself for it. “Of course, a lot of that fire comes from how much she hates you.”

He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. “That’s the strategy.”

“Is it though?” Sombra questioned, tilting her head. “Normally I’m very good at getting inside your head, but I can’t quite figure you out on this one. You went to the trouble of saving her and nursing her back to health, only to turn around and make her life hell? You didn’t even tell her how she ended up here. Why is that?”

Her tone of mock curiosity made it all too clear that she had an idea as to Reaper’s true motives, but she wanted to hear him say it himself. He wouldn’t be giving her the pleasure and instead retorted, “Keep poking around in other people’s business and you’re going to get hurt.”

The grin was evident in her voice alone. “I know you’re too nice a guy to follow through with that threat.”

Reaper didn’t have the energy to make her eat her words, so he just decided to disengage altogether. He faded into smoke to make a faster getaway and ensure she wouldn’t be able to follow him even if she wanted to. Surely she got enough of a kick out of getting him to retreat like that for her to even bother going after him.

Her taunting words had more of an effect than simply getting him to leave. It got him wondering how she spoke of him with you whenever he wasn’t around. Did she know about Reaper’s conflicting feelings and antagonize him further by stoking the flames of your resentment? It wouldn’t surprise him if the way he treated you was all the reason you needed to hate him, but he also wouldn’t be surprised if Sombra liked to stir the pot by opening her big mouth. You were foolish enough to trust her, after all, and you wouldn’t have any reason not to believe any disparaging remarks she might have had about him.

When he emerged from his thoughts, he found that he’d mindlessly wandered all the way to one of the training areas out of pure habit. His body was undoubtedly falling apart under the weight of a number of issues, yet he was still considered one of the most physically competent members of Talon when it came to training new agents. He was used to spending most of his time in such areas but he wasn’t used to seeing you here. You typically trained on the other side of base, so finding you here admittedly took him by surprise.

When you spotted him, your first instinct was to furrow your brows and harden your gaze. In spite of the way you glared at him, you greeted him with a respectful tone. “Boss.”

Reaper was glad you couldn’t see the way he looked at you beneath his mask, as he couldn’t help but stare as a bead of sweat slid down your neck and past your clavicles. He let himself glance at the cleavage just barely peeking out from your shirt’s neckline before looking back up at you. “What are you doing?”

“Training,” you said in a matter-of-fact tone before abruptly raising your leg and slamming it against a stuffed dummy. He didn’t even flinch at the sound it created. Instead he looked you over as you moved, examining your form and noting that you were more aggressive than calculated in your actions. “You’re bringing me out on the field next week, aren’t you? Sombra told me.”

So she did tell you the truth on occasion. As much as you hated him, it seemed your obligation to a job well done was greater since you took it upon yourself to train even on your own time. Before you could raise your leg again, Reaper reached out and held you by the waist, feeling you stiffen beneath his touch almost immediately. “Your form is wrong. Sloppiness like that’ll get you killed in battle.”

He could see your jaw tighten in response but you otherwise said nothing, instead allowing him to move you as he pleased. Once you started again, he observed smoother flow of movement in you and let out an approving grunt. You carried on quietly like this until Reaper noticed something odd.

You hadn’t lashed out at his correction. Granted he wasn’t as harsh now as he usually was, but it was still peculiar. You were a feisty one and you had a tendency to resist him until he physically coerced you into doing what he wanted.

The thought made his pants just a bit tighter as he wondered how far he could go with that routine.

It was difficult for Reaper to admit to himself that he gave a shit about you, but it wasn’t quite as hard to recognize you for the gorgeous young woman you were. The life of a Talon operative wasn’t the most physically fulfilling, and Reaper in particular had a few more unique circumstances that had him feeling even more alone. You couldn’t have been doing much better yourself, seeing as every waking moment was spent training. His heart was heavy with all the things he would never say to you, but the least he could hope to do was relieve some physical tension by being close to you.

Your form was fine, but Reaper reached out again to correct you. This time he held his body a little closer to yours and didn’t pull his hands away. He murmured, “What else does Sombra tell you?”

You were stiff in his grip and he half-expected you to try to slug him for being this handsy with you. Instead you decided to fight him with your words by retorting, “That it’s in your nature to be a dick and not to take it too personally.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sounds about right.”

You pursed your lips. “I know without her telling me that you’re not the nicest guy. So… it’s a bit hard for me to believe that someone like you would save me from the brink of death.”

That got his attention and now it was his turn to stiffen. He didn’t miss the way your eyes seemed to soften at his reaction, like he’d given himself away and answered the question you had yet to ask. “What are you talking about?”

“She told me what happened before I ended up here. How I… used to be on Overwatch’s side, before they left me for dead. How you were the only one who wanted to save me.”

Now that was something he hadn’t expected Sombra to tell you and he couldn’t tell whether or not he was pleased that she did. It opened up a door he wasn’t sure he wanted to walk through. But when he looked down and saw that strange look in your eyes, a soft expression he wasn’t used to seeing on you, his body moved before his reason could think better of it. One hand found your chin and dipped your head back towards him while the other ripped off his mask so he could kiss you without being hindered.

He thought that having you like this would quiet the conflict of feelings in his heart but he was wrong. If anything it further exacerbated the dissonance by forcing him to realize he wanted you softly, tenderly, but that just wouldn’t align with the way he’d been treating you thus far. So again, he took two steps forward and one step back by breaking the kiss with a hand around your throat. Your breath caught as you looked back at him, pupils shrinking.

“Don’t misunderstand. I wanted you because I saw that you could be of use to me,” he gritted out even though the words just made his heart heavier. He forced the thought out of his mind and held onto you even tighter. “Show me that I made the right choice.”

With that, he shoved your face into the stuffed dummy in front of you, forcing you to wrap your arms around it to stay steady. He pulled your ass out towards him and held you against his pelvis so he could grind against the growing heat between your legs. Though he was trying to set aside his conscience during this act, it did give him some measure of peace to know that you at least somewhat reciprocated his desire.

The tips of his claws skimmed down the thin fabric of your shirt before slipping under the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down along with your underwear to leave you bare before him. He removed his gloves and lowered a tentative hand between your legs to see if your arousal matched his own. He was surprised to find that you were wet at all, but he didn’t linger on it for too long. Instead he moved the pads of his fingers to your clit and moved in circles, reveling in the way your legs tensed and quaked in a struggle to support your weight when his actions shook your very foundation. In trying to find steady footing, you spread your legs just a bit wider for him and he took that opportunity to remove his belt.

He hissed at the relief that came from exposing himself and took his cock into his hand, moving in quick strokes as he lowered his mouth to the back of your neck. His lips brushed against the delicate skin until he found a spot he liked and sank his teeth in. Your resulting moan made him squeeze his cock harder, near pulsing with the need for something much tighter and wetter. Without taking his mouth off of you, he guided the tip to your soaking entrance and pushed himself in.

You moaned, pushing your backside further against him and taking the initiative to move when it seemed he wouldn’t. At first he let you do what you wanted and simply admired the show you made of swirling your hips, but then it wasn’t enough. He wanted you faster and deeper than you were allowing at the moment, so his hands found your waist and held you still so he could spear into you all the way to the hilt. That motion got a sharp whine out of you and he instantly knew he wanted to hear more of that.

With one hand on your hips and the other on your shoulder he began moving. You were a far cry from the cold and standoffish woman you were when he first approached you like this, now wholeheartedly moving in tandem with his thrusts and even letting your pleasure be heard. The sight of your plump lips parting to let out all kinds of sounds practically beckoned for his fingers, as he couldn’t resist sliding his middle and index fingers right over your tongue. You sucked the digits without being told, still letting out obscene and slightly obscured moans.

Reaper snarled and gripped you harder as he felt the knot in his stomach beginning to tighten. Before it could snap completely, he pulled out and finished on your back. His fingers slipped out of your mouth just in time for you to let out a cry indicative of you finding your own release as well. As he pulled both hands away from you, you were left with little more than the stuffed dummy to hold you up and support you. You stood on wobbly legs before sinking to your knees and he admired the view of liquid white sliding down your smooth lower back.

He’d been right about it feeling good in the moment, so he should have anticipated just how fleeting it would be now that it was over. Now, all he had were his regrets.

—

Reaper kept his distance from you after that incident, at least until avoiding you was no longer an option. Sombra had been right about his intention to fly you out with them on their next mission to give you some field experience, and that wasn’t something he could deprive you of just because he had his own hang-ups to contest with. The jet ride over had been awkward, but he had to shed those feelings once everyone’s lives were on the line.

They were resuming the same mission that had been foiled last time, when he first found you. As such, it was only right that the same Overwatch grunts who interrupted him then would show up again now. They at least seemed to have learned from their prior mistakes since they actually managed to get the drop on Talon this time around.

It was far from the fire fight it had turned into before, but weapons were drawn and blood was spilled. Reaper seemed to be their priority target this time since they witnessed firsthand just how much destruction he was capable of. They got him good but it was nothing he couldn’t handle on his own, which served as just one of many factors in his surprise that you jumped to his aid.

Not only did you jump to his aid, you served as a shield. Your own former teammates stood before Reaper with their weapons drawn only for you to rush in front of them and drop their jaws. Reaper couldn’t tell if you recognized them, but they sure as hell recognized you. The first one to lower their weapon also called out your name. “It’s you. We… We thought you were dead.”

Your voice came out low and tentative, implying that you might not have remembered them after all. “I would have been, if not for him.”

Indirect as it was, this was the first interaction you both shared since the incident in the training area and he was distraught to realize how pleased he was by the fact that it was a relatively positive one. But he simply kept quiet and watched, curious to see if your loyalty would return to the alleged good guys or remain with the one who saved your life.

For once, he was grateful for everything Sombra had said to you. She’d told you the truth about what happened the day Talon took you under its wing and it apparently stuck. Still standing between Reaper and his pursuers, you drew your own weapon and hardened your eyes. “I’m sorry. After everything I’ve learned, I can’t go back to Overwatch. I’m… more useful here than there.”

At that, Reaper’s lips curled up into a wry smile. With this, the dissonance he’d been battling since the day he took you in finally found equilibrium.


End file.
